Early Birds
by Novoux
Summary: Some mornings are easier to wake up to than others. Shizaya.


Days off come few and far between. Sometimes it takes months for both of them to catch a day off where their schedules coincide, or a week of not seeing each other until night falls and they're too tired to do much. Shizuo still likes kisses and red eyes shutting when Izaya leans against him, and Izaya has a tendency to use Shizuo as a perch for sneaking nips on his jawline. Neither of them are particularly romantic, but it suits them just fine when they're too tired to do anything else. Not like they care all that much for the stupid things like that.

Today is waking up late when Shizuo's out of bed and padding barefoot down the polished floor hallway to a larger kitchen while Izaya is still tangled in the sheets, staying up far too late last night and on his third hour of sleep at seven in the morning. They're still working out this dating thing and as cautious as it is as long as they don't push or pull in the wrong direction they can keep it steady. Compromise in several different forms with secrecy—no one really needs to know. And at seven in the morning and still rubbing his eyes with sleep Shizuo remembers that he doesn't have to go to work today. Which also means that because today is Saturday and the third one of the month, Izaya is still in bed and not at his office several blocks away.

It's the least he deserves, Shizuo decides when coffee doesn't sound good and he hates the acrid taste. Although he knows there's a bottle of milk in the refrigerator and he's tempted to get it, his stomach isn't awake yet so he leaves it be, brewing a single-serve mug for the informant still asleep. Sooner or later when the sun makes itself well known in a reddened sky turning blue Izaya won't be able to sleep any longer. Picky about sleeping in and all that. Shizuo doesn't care when he sleeps as long as he gets a solid seven hours in one sitting. But when Izaya doesn't sleep, it's unnaturally common enough that Shizuo doesn't either. Maybe he kicks him in his sleep, the asshole.

Minutes tick by and the sun starts to climb from the window in the living room of Izaya's large apartment. Of course he owns the entire building and no neighbors are around to stomp around at odd hours. Much more peaceful than his old apartment back in Ikebukuro with the unsavory types of neighbors living in one building. Like a ticking time bomb, similar to the clicks of the coffee machine as it hums the familiar tune of making the favorite drink of a sleepy informant. It's a favor Shizuo swears only because he's not caught in the act and not that it's important, but maybe a habit that forms after six months of dating and instead of fighting he tries to find something else to do. Finding Izaya's habits seems like an interesting alternative, because they don't end.

Three beeps and cursing under his breath when the machine is far too loud for his ears later Shizuo grabs a mug from a cabinet, pouring in the dark liquid and grimacing at the thought of no cream or sugar, just the way Izaya drinks it, before waiting a couple minutes for it to cool. Seven twenty is coming close on the digital clock of the coffee machine and Shizuo rubs his eyes, too tired to care much for the passage of time as long as he doesn't have to work today. Days like this are supposed to be their days and he takes them slowly, savoring each like a hard candy that melts in the mouth and before he knows it it's gone too soon.

Mug in hand, Shizuo slips out of the kitchen and makes the tread back to the bedroom, making sure to keep the door quiet when he carefully pushes it open far enough to move in and then close it behind him. Izaya, from where he can see, is twisted in the sheets like a complicated jigsaw and pulled tightly into a cocoon of not wanting to wake up yet. Shizuo can see the signs written on his face by the furrow in his brow and the set of a frown. Balancing the steaming cup in one hand Shizuo grimaces slightly when the bed creaks with his weight, shifting as he tries to climb back onto the mattress with no attempt to steal the sheets back.

By the time he's in, Izaya's eyes are already open. "Shh, Shizu-chan. Shut up already." he groans, slithering back into the sheets as Shizuo sits against the headboard on the left side. Having the bed centered toward the door and the window to the far right makes it easier to maneuver into a sitting position, holding the cup that starts to make his palm warm. Izaya doesn't move save for the stretches of his shoulders, curling in further on himself like a cat but he does inch closer to the body furnace that is Shizuo.

"...Is it early?" Of course it is—Izaya already knows that. But he questions while he starts to move again, uncomfortable after being unable to fall back asleep and the smell of coffee is starting to permeate the air. If Shizuo didn't know that he made the coffee as bitter as possible, he might have been tempted to sip it. But since he does, he sets it on the nightstand while his hands stretch and pop with each flex. Izaya's already pulling himself up. "You're still here. Another day off, Shizu-chan?" he notes, making no hesitation of moving to Shizuo and letting himself be pulled into his lap, bringing the sheets with him.

"You're a terrible bedmate, flea." Shizuo grumbles, feeling fingers interlace with his and slip away all in a matter of seconds. Izaya smirks with this because for all he knows Shizuo is right, but he also knows it doesn't matter if Shizuo is still in his bed nearly every morning. Not after sex—no. They don't have sex yet; one of Izaya's rules. He doesn't care for it now, Shizuo complies. Which is hard when his boyfriend is the kind of lanky and unattractive little pest but enough to get him flustered without attempting to. The looks are simply a bonus to his horrid personality at times when he's more of a smarmy asshole than usual. To which Shizuo is more or less an incorrigible beast, chasing him through Ikebukuro with maybe a few less street signs and light poles.

"Interesting you're still here." Izaya's eyes shift toward the mug and he easily accepts it when Shizuo grabs it for him, eyes widening from the sleepy overhang to breathe in the scent and enjoy the first sips of the cooling liquid stimulant. "You're supposed to hate me, Shizu-chan." He still sips to which Shizuo doesn't know how one can tolerate how bitter coffee is. But the devilish smile is there, no matter how lazy it is.

A kiss to Izaya's neck, beneath his ear and closer to his jawline. "And you're still alive. Funny how that works." It's a joke between them when Izaya never says the things he means. Emotions aren't his strong point and Shizuo doesn't care. He knows what Izaya means by now, having to deal with his nonsense for a year now. "Half a year of actually pretending to be a human being at times. Didn't know you had it in you, flea." Arms tighten around Izaya's waist, dropping to his hips and his chin scrapes against Izaya's shoulder.

Finally Izaya gets bored, sneaking out of Shizuo's grasp and with arms still around him he manages to grab his coffee mug, sipping more and slowly waking up with only several hours in his system. His eyes still look red from exhaustion and stress-induced insomnia that Shizuo pretends not to care about in return for Izaya pretending to hate him most of the time. Or whatever, since there are times he confuses himself but refuses to admit that there are things he doesn't know.

"You taste like shit." Shizuo grumbles instead, opting for crass language when fluidity isn't one of his preferences. If he can't do it, he doesn't see the point of obsessing like Izaya does. That bitter taste of coffee on Izaya's teeth and tongue though happens to taste utterly awful and for the unsweetened torture forced upon him that stains his own mouth he pinches Izaya's thigh.

"And you haven't brushed your teeth, you child." Izaya huffs, drinking the last in a larger gulp and maybe his fingers thread through Shizuo's when he swats the hand off of his thigh. It's better than creeping up his boxers when he's not interested without the first dips and spikes of caffeine rush in the morning. Shizuo's morning breath, Izaya decides, tastes worse than the bitter coffee that Shizuo hates.

"Fuck you." Izaya chuckles quietly to himself when Shizuo presses closer, lips brushing and fingers burning into his skin unlike the harsher version of the sun filtering through his blinds. This isn't the reason why he thinks he's a morning person because the notion sounds ridiculous and therefore Shizuo doesn't need to know.

Good morning to you too.


End file.
